


life may be tough (but darling so are you)

by BecomeMyObsession



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Chloe still denies Lucifer is the Devil, F/M, Lucifer looking after Chloe, Sick Character, Sick Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-23
Updated: 2016-05-23
Packaged: 2018-06-10 04:09:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6939070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BecomeMyObsession/pseuds/BecomeMyObsession
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>"Chloe never got ill. Well, that wasn't strictly true if you counted the amount of times she’d been in recovery for protecting Lucifer’s stupid petulant ass... she wasn’t good at handling her body doing things it wasn’t supposed to do – and it definitely wasn’t supposed to be coughing and spluttering all over the place..."</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Or when the Devil doesn't leave until his Detective feels better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	life may be tough (but darling so are you)

**Author's Note:**

> My first (rather timid) delve into the Lucifer fanfiction world.
> 
> I wanted to try something easy-ish first so I could experiment with the voices of the characters - before I inevitably jump into the deep end and becoming completely self-obsessed with playing Dolls House with Chloe and Lucifer, and force them to obey my every whim...

Chloe never got ill. Well, that wasn’t strictly true if you counted the amount of times she’d been in recovery for protecting Lucifer’s stupid petulant ass. She scowled at the air as though he could see her annoyance at him through whatever stupid “magical powers” he had. But, she wrapped her duvet tighter around herself and skulked from her bedroom to the kitchen hunting down a glass of water; this sort of ill was a rarity.

She’d woken up yesterday morning with pain behind her eyes and a light but growing – definitely not stress (this time) - headache, going to work she had been sent home early for snapping at the rest of the Precinct. She wasn’t good at handling her body doing things it wasn’t supposed to do – and it definitely wasn’t supposed to be coughing and spluttering all over the place, although thankfully the coughing seemed to have stopped for the time being. Her eye sockets were throbbing in her skull, and closing her eyes only provided part relief. She was utterly and completely miserable, and felt completely useless feeling sorry for herself. This was not what she had planned for the weekend Trixie was at her fathers, yet her body seemed inclined to rebel and fight her planned weekend of rest with all its might. As though it was punishing her.

She wasn’t being over-dramatic. She really wasn’t.

The water soothed her throat as she downed her second glass, this time with two very strong painkillers she kept for emergencies – assuming this counted as one if her head was anything to go by; she had to be at least partially functioning in case something happened. Her matted hair was tied into a messy bun and in her haste a few strands had come loose and were sticking to her face. She gruffly swiped them behind her ears, sighing to herself as she refilled her water with one hand and kept the duvet tightly wrapped around her with the other.

She hadn’t eaten anything in nearly a day and a half, but the thought of food made her queasy. She scrunched up her face in disgust as she thought about the left over mac and cheese in the fridge, and sadly resigned herself to spending the rest of the day in bed.

Collecting her water from the sink she turned around and yelped, her blood pressure shooting up in a way that couldn’t be healthy despite her current health predicament, as three quick rhythmic knocks wrapped out on her back door. Her glass slipped from her hand, and her reflexes were too sluggish to catch it and so she watched as it smashed on the floor, glass scattering everywhere. She stared in annoyance at the sharp objects now stopping her bare feet trekking to the back door where she was about 99% sure she had a very  _unwanted_  visitor… and that glass was going to be hell to clear up later.

“Detective? You in there...? I heard a smash, so you must be.” He didn’t really give her a chance before he answered himself. “I’m coming in.”

Again, before she got to answer, he had smoothly unlocked the door – she really had to tell Trixie to stop telling him where the spare key was - and light rushed into the kitchen, brightening all the corners she had meticulously made sure were pitch black earlier by shutting all the blinds and curtains. Even going as far as to hang a towel over the net curtains.

She winced and cowered away from the intense brightness that was now silhouetting his figure. If she wasn’t so sure he was – at least partially - mentally unstable, she would say he looked like an angel in that moment, a devilish angel in a stylish (probably Prada) suit. God, he was hazardous for any woman’s health – even if she was “immune”, she definitely did not want to deal with warning him off today.

“Urgh, Lucifer, go away,” she grumbled, turning away and tightly closing her eyes from the sun that had racketed her nearly under control headache up to new heights, “and please shut the door behind you.”

“Why Detective, I wouldn’t have figured you for someone to prefer the dark. It’s lovely and sunny out there… and why aren’t you answering my calls?” He stalked closer to her, glass crunching under his shoes as he walked. He left the door open as she could still feel the sun on her bare legs and it was making her uncomfortably hot, placing a finger under her chin and lifting, she could practically feel his frown when he probably noticed how terrible she looked. “Why do you look like you’ve gone three rounds with a hellhound?” She didn’t dignify that with an answer knowing some bordering line insane statement was sure to follow, “and trust me, I’d know, terrific for wrestling practice are those things.”

She opened her eyes a little, squinting at him through the brightness that invaded her senses. “Can you please just leave? I’m not feeling very well.” Her phone was on the counter and she watched as Lucifer prodded a few buttons before quickly realising it was dead. She’d let it run out of charge, feeling too lethargic to remember pitiful things last night before going to bed. If it was urgent, work could wait and she was sure Dan would show up with Trixie if it was serious. And she definitely wasn’t in the mood to be accepting calls from the insufferable pain that was now standing in front of her… who was still frowning, so she frowned back, entering a sort of five second staring contest with him before dropping her head, eyes burning, and sighing deeply. “If you’re really not going to go, can you please shut the door?” She muttered, before stepping around him and shuffling her way back into the living room. She heard the back door shut behind her but knew Lucifer hadn’t left by the soft footfalls behind her as she dropped onto the couch.

“Is this why you’ve been ignoring my calls?” She had no idea why he asked, it was pretty obvious, so she didn’t bother answering, instead choosing to raise an eyebrow and attempting to roll her eyes before wincing in pain. He was stood tall above her and watched as she slumped to the side, pulling her feet up and tucking them beneath the duvet, resting her head on the arm rest and re-closing her eyes, trying to ignore his infuriating – yet grudgingly soothing – presence. “You look like a caterpillar.”

She snorted, before groaning in pain and burying her head further into the duvet as it vibrated all the way back into her skull and bounced, hurtling towards her eyes. “Don’t make me laugh,” she grumbled into the arm rest, her voice coming out muffled. She figured he’d heard by the way he awkwardly cleared his throat and the air shifted as he picked up her feet and sat down, placing her feet on top. There was a beat of silence before Chloe rolled over slightly, peering up at him as he started at her. “What? Why are you staring at me? Why are you even here? Don’t you have better things to be doing, like annoying your Demon Ninja bartender?” She sounded bitter even to her own ears.

“Jealous Detective?” He smirked, before frowning as she re-closed her eyes and not firing back a remark that he would have enjoyed bartering with. “That’s it, come here.”

She cracked open an eye in confusion, “wha-?” she let out a very un-Chloe-like squeal as he scooped her up out of her ball and onto the nearby arm chair where she was sitting up. She tried to sink back down but he held onto her upper arms, giving her no room to move other than glare at him. “What are you doing?”

He didn’t answer her, but placed the back of his hand against her head and frowned as he peered at her. “You’re burning up.”

“No shit Sherlock.” She grumbled to herself, feeling slightly uncomfortable with him staring at her quite so closely, she looked a wreck and definitely was not a pretty sight to behold.

“Still not lost the humor though, I see.” He nodded to himself. “That’s good. It can’t be that dire.”

Glaring at him, despite the pain it caused to move her face muscles in that way, she couldn’t resist retaliating. “Oh how nice. I feel so reassured.” What was it about him that riled her up so much?

“You should. I’d be able to tell – I think, though I’m never completely sure with you, you freak – if you were, you know, on the way out.”

She frowned at him.

“I’d be able to tell if you were dying.” He clarified, still holding onto her upper arms but thankfully not checking her temperature anymore. That was distracting.

“I knew what you meant, I’m just not in the mood for your-” she waved a hand at the general presence of him and tried to scoot backwards in her chair, to no avail.

“My Luciferness?” He cocked an eyebrow, referencing her rant from what felt like forever ago. He was looking at her amused, as though she was a puzzle he was trying to figure out. “Very well, for you Detective, I’ll dial it down until you recover. Can’t have you crashing on me now, can we?” How he even managed to sneak sexual lilt to that sentence was impossible, even when she felt like she was dying – but she wasn’t obviously, because Lucifer said she wasn’t. She internally groaned and flopped her head back against the seat, whining as the pain vibrated again. This sucked.

“Have you eaten anything?”

She didn’t bother opening her eyes, just minutely shaking her head and grumbling out a, “no”.

“That’s probably a good thing. Feed a cold, starve a fever, and all that. Now come on, let’s get you back into bed.” That she did crack open an eye for, frowning at him, and he simply grinned back. “No, Detective, where is your dirty mind going? When you finally agree to sleeping with me,  _sober_ may I add, you’re not going to be on the edge of throwing up. I need you fit and healthy.”

When, not  _if_ , he’d said  _when_.

Urgh, she re-closed her eyes and decided arguing with him probably was not the best thing to do now when every move was currently making the room spin around her. She groaned and gritted her teeth through it, and proceeded to slump back against the chair when it passed, “-think m”gonna stay here.”

“Nuh uh Detective. You’re slurring your words now, back into bed you go.” He, surprisingly gently, manoeuvred himself so he could slide his arms underneath hers and over the duvet.

She pitifully struggled a little bit, opening her eyes to glare at him. “I can walk Lucifer, m’not ‘n invalid.”

He started at her a second, clearing debating his options, before slowly plopping her back into the seat and waved a hand. “Okay Detective, on you go.”

She knew he was clearly humoring her as she gripped the arm rest tightly and pushed herself up, wobbling a little but noticing Lucifer had stepped back, letting her get up herself. The duvet was prohibiting easy movement, and her limps were aching, but she managed to get herself into a standing position. Granted the room was swaying a little, but she proudly grinned at him, and he stared back at her; she wasn’t sure of the expression on his face but she frowned, determined to show him and make it to her bedroom alone. No help from him was needed.

She managed all of three steps before the duvet got tangled around her legs, and the room spun making objects unidentifiable. She reached out for what she thought was the back of the couch but missed, arms wavering a little and she squeezed her eyes shut and braced for impact as she pitched towards the floor.

Two strong arms wrapped themselves around her middle and crushed her into an unwavering body, and she unwillingly white knuckled his shirt as he kept her upright as the world tipped around her. She squeezed her eyes shut as nausea ran through her and she remained silent until it passed, before going still and dropping her head against his chest in embarrassment at herself. She was pathetic. “I don’t like this.” She grumbled, mostly to herself.

“I wouldn’t assume anyone would be happy waddling around like a new born deer.” His chest vibrating as he spoke, and despite his words, she took comfort in the soothing strong presence of him.

He seemed to notice her hesitation, and gently eased her away from his body so he could look at her, looking impeccable as always with his stupid attractive hair and eyes, and body, and, urgh, she dropped her eyes and grumbled to herself as a hot flush suddenly overcame her. When it didn’t pass she was pretty sure it wasn’t because she was being some pathetic woman reacting to his overwhelming encompassing presence. “I’m too hot.”

“Oh I know Detective-” he drawled, leering at her as she spared a second to glare at him in defiance before struggling to get free.

He quickly let her go, watching as she struggled to free herself from her self-inflicted duvet entrapment; twisting her arms at what must have been unnatural angles. She could swear he had his hands out ready in case she was to waver again. She was probably imagining it though, but he did seem concerned about her. When she was finally free, the duvet ungracefully falling flat to the floor around her feet, she rolled her shoulders and reached out towards something solid as she wobbled a little. Lucifer easily caught her hands and held her steady until she found her feet, she really was like a bloody new born deer. When she was finally standing, her hands still in his, she quickly took notice at how overly heated his hands were. “Why are you so hot?”

If her statement, which she immediately cringed at and wishing she could take it back, surprised him at all, he didn’t show it. Simply letting go, his lips sliding easily into a partially amused, and sexually compelling smile. “Why Detective, I never knew you cared.”

She glowered at him, “you know what I mean,” and attempted to fold her arms but found the movement to only make her warmer and she dropped them back to her sides.

He shrugged. “I always run hot. Devil, remember? I’m always a few degrees above your normal human temperatures... although I do admit you’re rivalling me at the moment.” She retained her glower, and he rolled his eyes. “Right no “Luciferness”… but you asked. You ask, I answer.” He sighed at her irritated expression, and shook his head. “You’ll believe me, one day.”

“Will I?” She muttered to herself, doubting her ability to stay sane the longer she remained in his proximity, and shook herself out of her thoughts. The shaking of her head was too much, and the nausea washed back up through her and she immediately slammed a hand over her mouth and cringed at Lucifer’s suddenly shocked expression. “I need-” she gritted out, before stopping herself by swallowing and spinning on her heels.

Moving faster than she thought she could, she threw herself into her bathroom, the door slamming shut behind her, and promptly hurled into the toilet. Nothing really coming up but bile as her empty stomach heaved and rebelled against her. She gulped a few times, gasping for air, before dropping her body onto the floor and curling up against the toilet, utterly miserable. Why was her body rebelling against her? Today of all days. She knew it was pathetic, but she dragged herself up to the sink and quickly rinsed her mouth with water, before slumping back against the cold tiles. They were nice against her burning body, and she took what little pleasure she could get from them as she huddled back against the wall and closed her eyes.

There was a quiet knock at the door. “Detective? Are you alright?” When she didn’t answer, to busy focusing on not throwing up again, though she was pretty sure the sudden need to throw up had passed, he called again. “Chloe?”

The use of her name, had her raising her head a little and attempting a meek reply, “I’m fine. Be out in a minute.” Even that didn’t sound convincing to her own ears, so she wasn’t surprised when she heard the door crack open slowly; Lucifer obviously double checking she was decent – how modest of him – before stepping more fully into the bathroom, filling it with his size.

She felt more than she saw as he moved closer to her, and dropped down to a crouch next to her. His hand coming back to rest against her forehead, and she winced away from the hotness into the corner. He quickly withdrew his hand and apologised. “Your body is obviously very cold, so why are you still burning up? Human illnesses, I don’t understand them.”

She had no answer for that, and was too tired to call him out on his 'Devil insane speak', and instead simply looked at him as he stared at her. She shrugged a shoulder, and gave him the only answer she could think of, “m’hot.”

He nodded, “I can tell, although the raised hairs on your arms say otherwise.” He shot a pointed look at her bare arms, and she glanced down and noticing the little goose-bumps that had arisen since she’d thrown off the duvet.

“Hate being sick.” She dropped her head down, wincing when the pain immediately gathered at the front of her skull, and promptly tipped her head back against the tiles and closed her eyes at the small bit of relief it gave her. “Not normal.”

“Well as far as I’m aware, humans get sick a lot. I think your spawn has had at least five colds in the past few months. Detective Douche has taken three days off work due to sickness. You though-”

She shook her head, very carefully this time so she wasn’t sure if Lucifer had even noticed. “Not me.”

There was a pause, as Lucifer clearly pondered that thought. Why? She had no idea, but he hummed and the sound vibrated right through her despite him still being far enough away none of his heat would transfer, and she wanted nothing more at that moment to curl up against him and go to sleep. How ridiculous of her. “I wonder why, something else to factor into the endless questions about you Detective, and why you’re sick now.”

She shrugged, having no clue and not seeing a reason to think about it at this current moment. She’d probably caught it from some germ infested criminal, not everyone can remain perfectly healthy forever. Wasn’t exactly some big mystery. She had reclosed her eyes and was resting her head, tilted back, against the cool tiles when she felt the air shift next to her, and cracking open an eye she watched as Lucifer shifted to sit against the tiles next to her, mirroring her position but with legs out stretched. “Go home Lucifer. I don’t want you catching this, and I’ll be fine.” Her voice was a little clearer now, but she was feeling more lethargic then she did a minute ago.

He watched her carefully. “Nowhere for me to be, and don’t worry I don’t get ill.”

She scoffed a little. “Neither did I.”

He hummed again and she closed her eyes, not that she would ever admit it to him but the silent support he was giving her was comforting, and she felt safe as her head lolled back against the wall, exhaustion taking over. She hadn’t had much sleep the night before and her body was feeling it, and she tried to fight it, body jerking awake, immediately closing her eyes in pain and sinking back against the wall.

She turned to Lucifer, who was silently staring ahead at the tiles in front of them, he turned to look at her and she blinked slowly at him, he stared unwaveringly at her. “Go to sleep detective, you need it.” She had no idea if it was his presence, or some creepy voodoo thing he was doing with his mind as he stared silently at her, but a haze of sleep suddenly washed over her and she fought against it but she failed and her eyes fell shut, her head lolling forwards a little. “Sleep. It’s okay, I got you.” Was the last thing she heard before she gave in and dropped into the welcoming blanket of sleep, her body sinking sideways and into Lucifer, who gently wrapped his arms around her and lifted her up, swiftly carrying her to her bedroom and gently placing her under the duvet he had replaced there earlier before checking on her, and tucking her into bed…

…when she woke she was freezing, her body violently shaking in the sheets. She curled into herself and grunted in discomfort. Turning over and burying herself back into bed, barely noticing Lucifer watching her from the doorway, leaning against the doorjamb with arms folded, as she shook. She sat up, rubbing her arms and gritting her teeth against the pain in her head. Squeezing her eyes shut and grumbling to herself, looking for her water which she noticed had miraculously appeared on her bedside table. She greedily gulped down half the glass, before forcing herself to the edge of the bed, and onto her feet, intent on finding an extra blanket or a jumper…

“Still not feeling any better I see.”

She jumped at the voice, whipping her head around to glare at the intruder who had now stepped into her room. The room wavered at the sudden move, the room closing in around her, and Lucifer quickly moved the rest of the way to catch her as she tipped forwards. His hands smoothly clasped around her arms and manoeuvred her back to the bed, and sat her back down on it. He swiftly removed his blazer and set it around her shoulders, not that it helped the coldness but it did help the shivering as she sunk into the comforting smell of his -probably too expensive to fathom – cologne, and as cliché as it sounded, something purely  _him_. If he noticed, he didn’t say anything, instead crouching down in front of her and for the third time resting his hand on the back of her head, but this time the heat was welcoming and she moved into it. He caught her as she slipped off the bed and practically onto him.

“Uh, sorry…” She immediately felt embarrassed and struggled to stand back up, grasping at the duvet behind her for leverage. But he clamped his hands around her wrists and she looked at him in confusion. He simply pulled her into him without saying anything, and she put up a small protest as he moved her but he was much stronger than her and she collapsed into his heat, and immediately closed her eyes as he wrapped himself around her. “Mmm, wha-?” She mumbled but he shushed her and she sighed, revelling in the warmth he was providing. They stayed like that for a few moments that felt like an eternity, and her tight grip on his shirt was gradually loosening as she felt herself slipping back to sleep.

The room spun as he moved her around, slowly to not make her stomach heave, and scooped her up into his arms and back onto the bed. As he moved to pull away, half asleep, she protested, arms reaching out as his heat left her. If he was enjoying her protest at him leaving her, he didn’t show it, and simply toed off his shoes and she watched as he rolled up his sleeves and shuffled himself onto the bed.

He wrapped his arms around her, and pulled her in, and this time she went willingly. Giving in to the soothing warmth his overly hot – probably was unhealthy and he should really get that checked out, she sleepily thought – body provided. She buried her head into his chest, revelling in the repetitive movements as he rubbed his hands against her back, and she quickly fell back asleep.

Lucifer watched her for a few minutes, breaths evening out and slowly deepening as she slipped further into sleep as he helped her along. Keeping her warm and comfortable. For the first time his presence was having an effect on his Detective, and despite it not being what he would have thought he would have wanted, he was finding comfort in helping her to sleep when she obviously needed it. Her being ill obviously weakened her natural defences against him, and considering she was never ill, he briefly wondered if it had something to do with him.

He was still pondering the thought, and what the hell she was doing to him, when he felt himself gradually succumb to sleep, and he drifted off with her still tightly wrapped in his arms.

When Chloe awoke, she was alone. She blearily rubbed her eyes, and sat up, weirdly feeling much better. Her stomach even made a hungry pang at her, reminding her she hadn’t eaten in days and the smell coming from the kitchen wasn’t helping. She carefully pushed herself to the edge of the bed and onto her feet, noticing she still had Lucifer’s jacket around her shoulders – so she hadn’t dreamt it. She cringed at how pathetic she had been, but resigned herself to the mocking as she moved towards her kitchen and the smell of food.

As she thought, she found him in the kitchen, kitchen towel over his shoulder as he moved with ease around her cupboards pulling out things for whatever he was making. He turned around as she entered, quirking an eyebrow when he realised she was still wearing his blazer. She blinked, she hadn’t even thought to take it off, but she pulled it tighter around her and padded her way towards the kitchen island, noticing the glass free floor and thankful she didn’t have to clear it up.

She sat herself down, Lucifer still remaining silent, and watched as he went back to his work. There was a minute or so silence before she quietly mumbled into the calm air, “thank you.” Not sure whether she was thanking him for cleaning up the glass, or his sturdy support for her despite her probably insufferable state.

He turned around, sending her an amused half smirk, and shook his head slightly as he placed a bowl of chicken soup in front of her, the bowl steaming and looking very very tempting. He waited until she took her first mouthful, eyes closing in bliss, before answering.

“You owe me one now Detective.”

**Author's Note:**

> Nothing, quite obviously, belongs to me. 
> 
> Sorry for any grammatical/spelling mistakes - those do belong to me - it's 3.27am here and I have no beta.  
> p.s/ I'm also British -I try to weed my British-isms out, but there's bound to be some that sneak in there...
> 
> Hope you enjoyed - let me know what you think if you can spare a minute of your time! :)


End file.
